Zeph's POV
So apparently, Diego used his influence to strike an amateur act on my pack. He made a big f*****g mistake. The kind of mistake that's going to cost him everything. I'm standing in the main hall of the pack house, my hands clenched into fists as Zayn fills me in on the details after I walked out on my father. The place still smells like smoke and blood, and every breath I take makes my wolf snarl with rage.
"The people they took were weak women and girls of the pack," Zayn says, his face grim. He's wearing his usual black t-shirt and jeans, but there's blood splattered across his clothes from helping the injured. "They specifically targeted the ones who couldn't fight back. Cowards. All of them."
"How many?" I ask, my voice deadly calm.
"Five," he says. "Three teenage girls
